


Calm Like You

by MartinShostakovich



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Blow Jobs, M/M, Professor Harry, Rimming, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartinShostakovich/pseuds/MartinShostakovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy develops a heavy crush on his new Classical Literature Professor Harry Hart, and strives to reach the top of the class in order to impress him. Little did Eggsy know, Mr. Hart is fairly easy to impress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ayyyy so this is my first harry/eggsy fic and i p much caved in and wrote it after not seeing enough professor harry fics. this is essentially a result of reading a single man and watching kingsman. i'm gonna make em fuck later but this is just the intro chapter really !! should be short and sweet. hope you enjoy B) you can also keep updated on my tumblr thirdmanupholstery.tumblr.com

 

                Eggsy’s mates were late to school for the third time that week, leaving poor Gary Unwin slumped lowly in his desk as he impatiently waited for class to start, passing the time by tapping his feet and scrolling his eyes across the neat writing on the board. His first period was Classical literature; an unlikely class for the boy if it wasn’t for the absolutely stunning professor. Sure, Eggsy could brush it off as broadening his horizons or some other bullshit, but the truth was he would rather spend an hour a day looking at the handsome Mr. Hart than take a blow-off course where he wouldn’t retain any of the information he studied a week after the course ended. It was common sense, really. At least he would be attentive.

                Eggsy had been in Mr. Hart’s class for about two weeks now, watching many young girls and boys switch in and out of the course once they’d realized how much of a hardass Hart was going to be. He was an intimidating man: all cold steel and rigid business. Eggsy had a hunch, though. Hart seemed like the kind of man to put on a bold front and scare off others, but under the surface would actually just be scared of being disrespected. Of course Eggsy could be wrong, but he had a deep need to impress the man regardless. Hart had said on the first day, “Prove yourselves worth top marks, or expect nothing more than a failure. I will not tolerate any middle ground.” Scare tactics or not, Eggsy was gunning for top of the class. He wanted to catch Mr. Hart’s eye, in more ways than traditionally appropriate.

                The man in question strode into the quiet room half an hour early, filling the empty space with the light clacks of his wooden dress shoe heels. As always, he was immaculately dressed: A black suit with a matching black tie, complete with cuff links and tie pin, and his wayfarer specs. He often alternated between thick black rims and his wayfarers, usually depending on the outfit. Eggsy found it fucking hilarious how even glasses had to accommodate to the man’s precise wardrobe. His figure was trim and tall, filling out his suit perfectly. He wore rings, but Eggsy made an effort to notice that there was nothing adorning his left ring finger.

                Mr. Hart went about his usual business of opening his briefcase, laying out papers at his desk, and taking out his array of pens and pencils he planned on using that day. Everything, Eggsy noticed, was a routine for the older man. Which explains why Hart jumped when Eggsy piped up,

“Mornin’ Mr. ‘art.”

His head shot up, locking eyes with the younger man ungentlemanly slouched in his chair, “Good morning, Gary. You’re rather early.”

“Name’s Eggsy, ‘member? Yeah, me mates are usually ‘ere by now, but they had a long night apparently and can’t be bothered to come in before noon. Figured I might as well enjoy the quiet. Wasn’t sure when you usually got in.”

“Am I to assume you had a long night as well?”

Eggsy scoffed, shaking his head, “Not a chance. Unlike them, I keep my shitfacing to the weekends. Only an idiot would get plastered on a weekday, especially if you’ve got class in the morning.”

Hart cocked an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t have thought class was one of your top priorities.”

“Oi, I may dress like a chav, but there’s a reason I wear these bloody hats. Protectin’ me brain, I am. I’m a through and through academic.” Eggsy’s grin made Hart’s lips twitch, leaving him shaking his head and returning his attention to the paperwork in front of him,

“I’m sure, Eggsy.”

“Can never tell if you’ve had a rough one, though. Always spiffed up and that. No matter the day you’re always right sharp. That’s gotta take ages, don’t it?” Eggsy watched as Hart’s pen halted on the paper, the older man’s gaze returning to his. He could have sworn a light blush rose to the professor’s cheeks, but Eggsy wouldn’t bet on it.

“Thank you. I appreciate the sentiment.” He quickly redirected his attention back to his papers, “But no, after years of ‘spiffing up’, it all becomes a bit routine, really. The trick is maintaining your grooming so you don’t have to redo yourself every morning. Only adjust.”

“Like when you clean your room and then make sure to keep it decent, yeah?”

“Exactly, Eggsy. Maintain yourself and relieve unnecessary effort.”

“So you can be lazy in the morning if you’ve had a bender.”

“That’s the idea.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then. Or better yet, pass it on to my mates and straighten them up a bit. Lord knows they fuckin’ need it.”

“Language, Eggsy.”

“Still before class hours, innit? Technically it’s far game.”

Hart sent a glare towards the young lad and waited a moment, scanning his features. “I suppose you’re fucking right.”

Eggsy’s laugh echoed through the room, eliciting a smirk from the professor. It was the first smile he had ever seen on the older man’s face, and he hoped to god it wasn’t the last. They were interrupted by the bell, alerting both of them to the time. It was 5 minutes till the class started, and students started to file in one after the other. Soon enough, Eggsy once again faded into the background of the lecture hall, gaining little to no notice from the preoccupied professor. He just sat back, listened intently, and decided he would try to come early again another day. The glimpse of the man behind the iron mask set a small fire within the young man’s chest. He wanted to see all of him, needed it. Eggsy would be damned if he didn’t.

After the period ended, Eggsy quietly shuffled along with the streams of other young students on their way out. While passing Mr. Hart’s desk, he caught the professor looking at him and turned, giving him a smile and a wave, “See ya later, sir.”

Hart returned the smile and bowed his head, “Stay out of trouble, Eggsy. Good day.”

Repeats of the morning’s conversation reeled through Eggsy’s head for the extent of the day, and glimpses of the professor’s smirk plastered themselves onto the forefront of his consciousness. Even in the presence of his friends, he found himself drifting in and out of conversation, too preoccupied to keep up with whatever meaningless topic the pair were discussing amongst themselves. Eggsy watched the cars pass outside of The Black Prince, imagining what it would be like for Mr. Hart to strut in here, sit down at the bar, and order a Guinness. If Eggsy weren’t his student, he would walk up to the man and try to buy him a drink, keep him company, and sneak his number into the man’s breast pocket. Knowing him, he’d probably still be dressed in some variation of his work clothes. Maybe, just maybe lacking the tie, exposing the smooth curve of his neck. God, what Eggsy wouldn’t give to be able to-

“Oi, Eggsy! You fuckin’ stoned, mate? You’ve been out of yer damn head since we got ‘ere.” Eggsy’s head snapped towards the voice, taking in his friend Chris’ concerned and slightly annoyed face. He sighed, running a calloused hand over his face.

“Nah nah, sorry mate. Just distracted is all. Thinkin’.”

“Dean being a cock again?”

“Fortunately no, he seems to be distracted with that new fuckin’ car of his. Can spend his earnings on some piece of shit sports car, but can’t be arsed to support me mum and sister. Disgusting, he is. But no, just school stuff mate.” Eggsy took a long swig of his drink, calming himself down after having anger stir in his stomach at the thought of Dean.

“Oh shit, mate, we missed lit didn’t we? Did Hart give us a big ass assignment again? I swear to god, that fuckin’ pissy geezer-“

“No.” The shortness of Eggsy’s reply caught them all off guard. He felt a surge of protectiveness for the older professor, jaw immediately clenching when hearing any ill speak of him. As soon as the protectiveness came, so did the embarrassment, his face flushing lightly when both of his friends looked at him confused.

“Eh, no. He didn’t assign anything. On the contrary, actually, he, uh, he was actually pretty cool today. Heard the man say fuck.”

“Well I’ll be damned, that man actually has a human side.” Chris scoffed, finishing his drink and setting it back on the table loudly, “So what, somethin’ happen in class that got you all air-headed, then?”

“Guess you could say that, wasn’t really in class though. It were before. I had a talk with him, actually. Gave me a couple of tips about groomin’ an that. How to look suave all the time.”

“He gave you beauty tips?” James asked with a laugh, making Eggsy shake his head.

“More like I asked him for ‘em. But he said to maintain yourself, like when you clean your room, yeah? Clean up properly once, and then just keep it goin’. Said it’s useful after a bender ‘cause no one’ll know your dyin’.”

“You fuckin’ tell ‘im about our night out, Eggsy?”

“Might’ve done.” He replied with a smirk.

“Ohhh, you fuckin’ tosser!” Chris threw his napkins at Eggsy, bringing a laugh out of the boy. “He could call me mum, you know that? I could be in deep shit!”

“Doubt it, mate. I hardly think he’ll be thinkin’ of you while at home watchin’ telly.”

“You don’t know that, I’ve got a notable face. Remember me for years, he will.”

“Yeah, as a fuckin’ pisshead.” James quipped, earning a punch on the shoulder.

The lads stayed at the pub for a couple more minutes, finishing their drinks and letting conversation die down on its own. At the end of the evening, the three headed their separate ways, leaving Eggsy alone on his walk home. It only took him about 5 minutes to get from point A to point B, but this late at night he always felt a bit vulnerable. The lights that lined his council estate were unkempt; two thirds of them blown out and the other third so dull you could barely make out the differences between a person and a bin. Eggsy was a tough lookin’ kid, of course, but he was still a kid. He could take on a guy his own age, but if a muscular mugger were to come out of the darkness and try to rough him up Eggsy wouldn’t be able to fight him off.

With this thought in mind, Eggsy’s fist clenched when he saw a figure walking towards him from the other end of the sidewalk. He was a tall bloke, looked kinda thin as far as he could tell. If he started trouble, Eggsy could probably take him. But as the two men walked towards each other, Eggsy started to notice familiar traits about the other man. He was wearing a suit, glasses, and had an umbrella tucked under his arm.

“Mr. Hart?” Eggsy’s eyebrows shot up as the figure came into full view, revealing himself as the one and only.

“Oh, hello Eggsy. Fancy seeing you here.” He seemed quite poised, despite the surprise of finding one of your students while on a midnight stroll.

“The hell you doin’ out here? It’s half past 12, bruv.”

“I could say the same to you, walking the streets at night is a dangerous game for a young man.”

“I’m on me way home, I live just up the street. Just went to the pub with some mates.”

“Ditto. I’m on my way home from visiting an old friend of mine. I have a house a block over.”

“What a coincidence, eh?” Eggsy smiled, feeling a bit stunned by the sudden presence of the man whom he had been chatting about not even an hour ago.

“Quite. Although, I’m slightly glad I surprised you. Think of it as pay back for surprising me this morning.”

“Ah, right, sorry.” Eggsy shifted a bit, rubbing the back of his neck, “Wasn’t me place to just intrude that early in the morning. If you don’t want me comin’ early again I understand-“

“Nonsense.” Hart interrupted, his brow furrowed slightly, “On the contrary, Eggsy. I rather enjoyed our chat. Most of the students are too intimidated to be in a space with me by themselves, let alone actually converse with me. It was…refreshing.” He offered up a smile to his student, seeing the young man’s eyebrows shoot up and a certain sparkle enter his eye.

“Oh. Right then, good to know.” Eggsy seemed lost for words, so Hart took pity on him and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Upon contact, Eggsy’s heart skipped a beat, and he hurriedly tried to catalogue the feeling of the professor’s firm hand on his shoulder, seeping heat into the chilled fabric. He tried to hide a disappointed sigh when Mr. Hart removed his hand, giving him a smile in return instead.

“I do apologize, Eggsy, but I have to be on my way. It is, after all, quite late and we seem to be sitting ducks on the side of the road.” Hart glanced either way, making sure no one else was watching the two men speak.

“Right, right, yeah I best be getting’ back to me mum and sister. It was good to see you, sir. A bit odd and unexpected, but good.” He chuckled and gave a mock salute to his teacher as they both started their opposite treks home.

“See you soon, Eggsy. Have a good night.”

“You too, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eggsy takes Professor Hart's advice and cleans himself up. It has the desired result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this one has a bit of smut at the end(and by a bit i mean a tiny bit i apologise), but i soooo wanted to dress eggsy up so i fuckin did sue me okay but i really hope this doesn't disappoint !!! the finale is comin' B)

Eggsy hadn’t gotten much sleep due to the ungodly combination of loud, idiotic shouting at the telly by Dean’s fat mouth and thoughts of a certain uptight professor pinning him up against the brick wall and snogging the bloody life out of him instead of politely taking his leave. The pair of them served to bring about two completely different areas of frustration in the young man. Unfortunately, every time his hands started to wander Dean’s stupid critiques of whatever football team was playing resonated throughout his small room and immediately deflated his erection. Remind him to buy ear plugs next time he’s at the shop.

A low groan escaped his lips when the sound of his piercing alarm clock rang out. Thank fucking Christ it was Friday. One more day of this bullshit and he had a whole two days to prepare for it all to happen again. The only thing that got his legs sluggishly heaving themselves over the side of the bed was the thought of seeing Professor Hart again. Maybe Eggsy would dress up a bit today…show that the lad had actually been listening to the man’s advice. He glanced in the mirror, taking note of the bags under his eyes. He’d have to make up for those. With a purse of his lips, he trotted sleepily towards to the loo, where he started his typical routine. This time, however, he took a bit more care into washing with his body wash instead of just rinsing, and took his time shaving and combing his hair. Fuck’s sake, he even rubbed on a bit of his mum’s moisturizer and sprayed on his old cologne, the kind he only used when he went to court or had a wedding to go to. He looked proper put together by the end of it, and was actually pleasantly surprised with what he saw in the mirror looking back at him. A grin crept onto his face, giving himself a once over. So this is why the smug fucker did it. He felt powerful as all hell.

Back in his room, he rummaged around his closet for something that didn’t look chavy, which was a challenging task for the boy. Finally he found a black button up, a grey blazer from a court date last year, and some black tight fitted slacks. Perfect. He slipped into his newly combined outfit and inspected himself in the mirror for what seemed like the seventh time that morning. Fuck me, dressing up makes you vain. He looked like a completely different man, almost unrecognizable. With the addition of his dress shoes and a watch for good measure, he made his way out into the living room. His mum was seated at the table with Daisy, and Dean was nowhere to be seen, probably out at the pub already. Michelle’s eyes glanced over at the sound of the door opening, and her mouth dropped at the sight of her son looking properly put together.

“Bloody hell, Eggsy, you’re lookin’ sharp! What’s the occasion, then?”

The young man smiled, making his way over to the table to kiss his baby sister on the forehead and steal a slice of toast, “Just felt like puttin’ some effort in today. ‘Bout time I started to look my age, innit?”

“I suppose so, but why now? Coulda done ages ago.”

“Got some tips from a mate, thought I’d try em out. I take it you like it?”

“Of course, darling! You look like your own man. Thank whoever it was who bloody convinced you, they did god’s work.” She laughed, leaning up to give Eggsy a kiss on the cheek, “Have a good day, yeah? Make ya mum proud.”

“I’ll try. Stay safe, yeah?”

With one last wave, he made his way out of the grimy apartment and to the tube station. The amount of looks he got was unbelievable, but to his surprise, none of them seemed vicious. Usually when he sat down, the people seated across from him will give a glare, sometimes even a snarl. Today, however, the looks he got had another motive. Jealousy, maybe, or just straight up checking him out. He felt his ego slowly inflate, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

The other students had the same reaction, but Eggsy didn’t care much about it. There was only one person’s reaction he cared about, and he was making a straight shot for the classroom. He wasn’t as early as he had been the day before, but he was still about half an hour before call time. He hadn’t even bothered to check if Chris and James were there today, he didn’t care really. The lecture hall’s door was ajar, and as he pushed it open he took in the sight of Professor Hart hunched over his desk, scribbling on a paper furiously. He seemed completely focused, a strand of his perfectly sculpted hair falling out of line over his forehead and his bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth. Eggsy’s breath caught in his throat, immediately becoming very nervous about being in the presence of the man. He didn’t want to interrupt him when he was working, so he tried to quietly recede back out of the doorway when the hinges squeaked, alerting the older man to his company.

“Good morni-“ Hart stopped mid greeting when he laid eyes on Eggsy, mouth falling open instead. His eyes drifted down the student’s body, quickly snapping back up to the other’s eyes, “Well this is quite a pleasant surprise. Took my advice, did you?”

“What’s it look like, mate?” Eggsy joked, a smile playing across his features. His plan worked, he had Hart’s approval, if that hungry stare was anything to judge by. Or at least what Eggsy saw as a hungry stare. It could be wishful thinking, after all. But he doubted it. Not with the way Hart’s fingers squeezed his pen tighter.

“It looks, Eggsy, like you clean up remarkably. I’m glad to have had such a positive influence on your outward appearance. Now, if only I could fix that attitude of yours-“

“Oi, oi, mate, that attitude is what makes me unique. It’s the Unwin charm, that. Keeps us breathin’.”

“It could very well kill you also.”

“Only if ye got nothin’ to show fer it.” Eggsy lifted up his arm and mock flexed, invoking a chuckle from the professor.

“Be careful, Eggsy, you may rip the only blazer you own.”

“Fuck off, Hart.” The young man said with a laugh, making his way into the front row of the hall.

“Is that any way to speak to your superiors, Gary?” Mr. Hart’s face looked serious, but Eggsy could see past it to that twinkle of silliness in his auburn eyes.

“If they’re bein’ a smart arse, yeah.”

“If you’re so keen on gentlemanly lessons, here’s lesson two: Everyone that is above you in this god forsaken world will, almost undoubtedly, be some variation of an intelligent buttocks. The proper way to handle this sad fact is to grin and bear it until you swiftly take their position from under them and elegantly rub it in their face.”

“Is that what you did, then?” Eggsy’s eyes lit up, a grin plastering itself onto his mug.

“Of course. One of the only reasons, besides the betterment of society and helping the young and all of that other bullshit, why I took to becoming a professor was because one of mine was a complete fucking tool. After experiencing six, Eggsy, six courses with this antichrist I decided I would come back after I had finished my PhD and take his position from him. And I did.” Hart pointed to a portrait on the far wall, “That’s the bastard right there. It’s University policy to keep the portraits of past professors in the lecture halls; otherwise I would have used it as firewood after disgracing it with drawn male members.”

“Bloody hell, Hart.” Eggsy couldn’t believe his ears; his grin had spread like wildfire and he stared at the fat old man pictured in the portrait. “You sure know how to stick it to em, don’t ya?”

“I excel at it, Eggsy. One of my many gifts, as well as knowing how to make a marvelous martini.”

“Yeah?” The younger man’s head whipped back around, facing Hart once again. “Any chance that can be ‘Professor Hart’s gentleman training: lesson three’?”

The professor’s lips twitched into a smirk as he leaned back, crossing his arms, “Well, seeing as you’ve progressed thus far without any difficulty, I don’t see why not.”

“ _Yes,_ professor.” Eggsy cheered, fist pumping the air. “How ‘bout tomorrow? Since it’s Saturday and that?”

Hart cocked an eyebrow, “That eager to spend time with the man who could very well jeopardize your whole academic future?”

“Makes it fun, donnit?”

“Positively riveting, Eggsy.”

“I’m taking that as a yes, and don’t you think about bailin’ on me, bruv. Would be irresponsible and ungentlemanly of you.”

“I think that may be up to me to decide.” Hart’s attention was drawn to the sheet of paper under his hand, tearing a piece off and scribbling on it before offering it to Eggsy between his pointer and middle finger. “Here is my address; keep it safe. I would very much appreciate keeping my home egg-free, and fully furnished.”

Eggsy reached over and snatched it from the other man’s hand, tucking it neatly into his breast pocket, “Of course, sir. You have my strictest word.”

“Primary school teacher strict, then?”

Eggsy rolled his eyes, tsking at the smirking old man in front of him. Hart quickly resumed his previous efforts on the paper, and Eggsy fell into a content silence, feeling his heart beat stay at a hefty rhythm upon the frequent realizations that he, Eggsy Unwin, had been invited to his hot professor’s house for a private Martini making lesson. Sounds straight out of a romance novel, don’t it? He could only hope they’d both end the same way, if only a little more tasteful on his end.

The rest of the day was a complete blur, only grounded by the fact that instead of being in the back of the hall, Eggsy got a front seat show to Mr. Hart’s lecture, occasionally making eye contact with the man and offering a cheeky wink, often getting an upwards eyebrow in return. Upon leaving the hall, Eggsy dug around his jacket pocket and retrieved the neatly folded paper, opening it and taking note of the address. Below the street, Hart had scribbled ‘arrive at 6pm sharp. Do not eat beforehand.’ Was he going to cook for him as well? Holy fucking shit, the man’s a dream. Could he read into this? Was this a date? Or a formality? Whatever it was, it nearly knocked the wind straight out of Eggsy’s arse.

Once he got home from the rest of his classes, it was already half past 6 in the afternoon. He was knackered and nervous, a shitty combination if you’re looking to catch up on sleep. He resigned to just lay out on the settee for a couple of hours, watching reruns of Top Gear and munching on whatever he could get his mitts on. It wasn’t until 10 that Eggsy returned to his room and threw himself into bed, relishing the feeling of soft linen around him. Thankfully, he remembered to pick up a pair of ear plugs from the shop on his way home and slid them on, sighing at the quiet they introduced. Maybe he could finally fuckin’ have a wank in peace.

At the thought, his cock perked up, stirring slightly in his satin boxers. For the past couple of days his sexual frustration had been slowly but surely building, and seeing how both his mum and Dean were out at a friend’s party for the night, what’s the harm in a little self love?

His hands started to drift down his chest, lingering to pinch his nipples lights, making them peak. He could feel heat start to pool low in his stomach, making his fingers and toes tingle faintly. He stroked down his stomach, reaching the soft fabric of his pants. They were his favourite pair; the satin brushed against his cock in the most delicious way, allowing soft touches to be felt through the fabric but being thick enough to keep it teasing. His hands explored every nook and cranny, teasing himself up and down his inner thighs, pretending they were Professor Hart’s. ‘What a good boy,’ Hart would say, ‘you really do know how to follow instructions.’

Eggsy moaned, grabbing his hard on through the fabric, stroking it lightly. ‘Are you ready for lesson four, Eggsy?’ He imagined Hart’s voice being whispered into his ear, strokes remaining at a painfully slow pace. ‘A gentleman must always come on command, you see. Always offering complete control to their partner.’ His strokes got faster, harder. Eggsy’s eyebrows furrowed, mouth going agape.

“Fucking shit, professor.” He gasped out loud, giving himself completely to the fantasy. ‘Come for me, Eggsy. Earn your marks.’

Eggsy cursed loudly, back arching as he finished on his own reddened chest. His mind went dizzy, taking a couple of minutes to completely collect himself once again. It was a tad embarrassing how quickly he came to the thought of Mr. Hart, but what could a man do? The thought of it drove him wild, and seeing how he can’t do it often, he’s much more sensitive than the average chap. But regardless, the wank had successfully reduced his nerves, and with a quick cleaning up, Eggsy was snuggled up in his warm bed, drifting off to sleep in minutes. Should be in medical journals, that. Have trouble sleepin’? Have a go at yourself to the thought of a professor, works like a charm.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come; time to show Mr. Hart what he's made of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY shit ok sorry it took so long this chapter is so long it took forever to write and i kept on having to edit it and adjust dialogue and get back in the head space of the characters ug u G but here u go the big finale !! they finally fuck and it's great

The post-wank sleep was always the best sleep Eggsy managed to get, and that night did not disappoint. He had been completely unconscious for a full nine hours of blissful rest, and awoke refreshed, ready to take on the day ahead. It helped, of course, that half of his day was potentially going to be filled with him wining and dining his fit professor, and possibly shaggin’ him if luck was on his side. As far as Eggsy was concerned, if he could manage to even get the invitation in the first place, he was practically in the man’s bed.

The lad took in a deep breath, slowly stretching out his aching limbs from their folded state. The bed was a tad small for him, with it being a twin size and all, but it was comfortable enough to get by and not fall on his arse when he readjusts frequently during the night. Sure, his feet hung off the edge, but that worked to his advantage when the room got a bit too hot. Plus, his room couldn’t fit anything much bigger; there’d be no space for anything else. So, with a resigned sigh, Eggsy ungraciously flopped himself out from under his sheets and into the cold world around him. He blindly searched the side table for his watch and snagged it, glancing at the stainless silver face. It was about half past twelve, and by Eggsy’s standards, that’s a proper good time to start the day. He was actually quite proud of himself.

Upon exiting his room, Eggsy took note that neither his mum nor Dean had returned from their party the night before. He knew that his sister was at his Aunt Carla’s place, so thankfully he didn’t have to worry about the little one’s safety at all, but he had no idea if his mum made it through the evening unscathed. Dean’s mates could be fucking brutal, and if his mum said something vaguely unnerving to them they wouldn’t think twice about smackin’ her across the face. The thought burned a hole through Eggsy’s stomach. How the fuck can those shitheads get away with abusing innocent people? Takin’ the piss out of someone’s sufferin’? It did his head in, that. One day he’d teach ‘em a lesson they’d never fucking forget.

Scoffing out loud, he lazily made his way into the cluttered kitchen, scooping up an apple. He needed to be on the tip-top of his game tonight, which included eating healthy. Couldn’t have himself be ill and bloated, could he? No, he had to be full of energy and nutrients and whatever else that comes from a fucking apple. Important part is, he needed to impress the pants off of this guy. Literally. And if that meant ditchin’ the four morning (or in this case noon) pancakes then by god, he would have to endure. Was about time he took better care of his body, anyway. His lifestyle of beer and sweets wasn’t exactly suitable for an adult, as much as it pained his poor heart to say so.

An hour or two passed as he fetched a couple more food items and relaxed in front of the telly, letting his mind wander in and out of whatever bollocks was going on in the episode of Coronation Street. Eventually he got a bit bored and restless, and opted to start getting ready early so he could go out to the shops beforehand and maybe pick up a thoughtful gift for the professor. What would the man like? Chocolates? Nah, too prissy. Hart was probably watchin’ his figure too, like all middle aged people nowadays. Fuck’s up with that? Live a little, you’re halfway to death, might as well say ‘fuck it inject me with grease.’ Suppose Hart is still lookin’ for a partner, though. Have to remain somewhat desirable. Eggsy pursed his lips, reeling his mind on what would make the best impression. What about scotch? Every man likes a good drink, don’t he?

Pushing off thoughts of various liquors, he repeated his new washroom preparations from the morning previous, but included a certain attentiveness to tidying up the Unwin undercarriage. A man can never be too careful, and while Eggsy was not an under blessed man, it had been quite some time since anyone had laid eyes on his package and if he was going to be a proper gentleman, he needed to trim and crop. It was only polite, after all.

He was beginning to take a fancy to the feeling he got when he took care of his looks. He felt confident, powerful, in charge. Something he rarely felt when pisshead Dean was around. It was a breath of fresh air for him, and it was only icing on the cake that Dean hadn’t been around much this week. With his newly acquired piece of trash death trap, he’s been going all over London town wreaking havoc in all the council estates he couldn’t normally. While bad for those getting the steamin’ mess he took with him, it was bliss for Eggsy and his cleaned, sparkling arse. He gave himself a playful spank, grinning at the resounding slap. All his walkin’ had done him good these past years. His cheeks could crack fuckin’ skulls.

Making his way back to his room, he reckoned that he should probably find another outfit to wear to his dinner date. Was a bit tacky to wear the same outfit twice, especially when the other man would certainly notice and probably berate him for it. Thankfully, he had another one in mind. A bit more casual this time, due to his lack of another blazer, but certainly above the usual wear he’s seen in. The young lad slipped on a fitted white button up, tucked it into some black jeans, and donned his leather belt and dress shoes. He left the top two buttons undone to tease the older man, showing a bit of his skin, and folded the sleeves to elbow length.

Checking himself out in the mirror, he nodded his head in approval. Not bad, that. If he saw himself on the street, he’d definitely try to pick ‘im up. In the midst of feeling up his own arse, Eggsy noticed that he had cut down the time it took to get ready by half an hour. The words of Hart echoed through his head ‘Maintain yourself and relieve unnecessary effort.’ Man was right, like always. Maybe one day he’d call him out on a mistake, if the guy ever bleedin’ made one. Eggsy doubted it.

Before heading out, Eggsy made sure to pick up his phone and dial his mum, needing to see if she was alright or not. On the third ring she picked up,

“’Ello darling, how are you? Sleep alright?”

“Yeah yeah, mum. Slept great, actually. You alright over there? Don’t need me to sort anythin’ out?”

“I’m fine, sweetie, just had a late night is all. Brenda and ‘er sister ended up comin’ over and kept me busy, Dean left with his mates for the pub halfway through. Said there was too much perfume in the air or sommat.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes, “Right, ‘course. I’m just glad you’re okay. Was a bit worried when you weren’t ‘ere.”

“Awe, look at you, defendin’ yer mum. Raised you right, I did.”

“Listen, I’m gonna be out tonight. Have a dinner planned with a mate from school, don’t wait up, yeah? Dunno what I’m gonna be doin’ after.”

“Oh, have I met him?”

“Uh,” Technically his mum has met Professor Hart at orientation a couple of weeks ago, but Eggsy didn’t think it was a good idea to mention that he was having dinner at his professor’s house just yet. “No, no he’s new. In my lit class.”

“Tell ‘im I said hi then. Take care, sweetie.”

“Ta, mum, you too.”

Once disconnected, Eggsy sighed, rubbing his hand roughly down his face. This was going to be a pain in the fuckin’ arse to keep straight; he was going to have to remember all the small fibs he tells about this to his mum and mates. Maybe he should make a list. Eggsy grabbed his keys and wallet and made for the door, figuring he might as well keep himself preoccupied until the bell tolled. First stop was Tesco, a reliable and familiar choice. He knew exactly where everything was, and made a straight shot at the alcohol aisle. He paused and inspected the array of choices, noting that his range would be greatly stunted due to the prices. He was left with two different kinds of scotches: Johnnie Walker or Crown Royal (There was a sale, thank god.) Weighing his options, he opted for Crown Royal, not wanting to seem too stingy. When checking out, the bagger smiled at him, scanning the bottle,

“A date then, yeah?”

“Suppose you could say that.”

“She’s a mighty lucky lady. Charm her tits off for me, alright?”

Eggsy scoffed, shaking his head, “Yeah, sure love.”

He took his bag and scurried away from the woman, a faint heat spreading across his cheeks. That never happened to Eggsy, none of the cashiers spoke to him here. Why the hell did it have to be today? This gentlemanly shit was more powerful than he thought.

The hours ticked on, and Eggsy found himself walking leisurely towards the address written on the folded note in his hand. It was about fifteen minutes till six, and if Eggsy walked slowly enough, he could drag out the walk to arrive right on time. But with every step he took, his heart rate started to pound in his chest. This was actually happening. He was walking to his fuckin’ professor’s house. Could he handle this? What if he fucks up and embarrasses himself? Lord fuckin’ knows it would be the end of him if he did something stupid in front of suave, perfect Mr. Hart. What gave him the right to be so damn posh, anyway? Was he royalty or sommat? Bet he went to Cambridge. What if he snogged a guy there just to try it out? What if he liked it? What if he did more than that? He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. Don’t think about that right before you see the prick, the fuck are you thinkin’? Make it worse for yourself with that.

Within a couple of minutes, his eyes caught sight of the tall house tucked snuggly between two buildings. It was bright white, bold to the senses. It screamed ‘Professor Hart.’ Eggsy stood still for a moment, feeling his limbs temporarily go numb.

“Fuck me, mate.” He whispered to himself under his breath, “The fuck have I gotten myself into.”

On the dime, Eggsy knocked on the man’s door at 6pm sharp, as instructed, and waited anxiously for the door to open. He heard shuffling around inside and then a click, followed by Hart opening his home to the boy with a smile,

“Quite punctual. I anticipated a bit of a wait.”

“For a Martini? Nah, bruv, when a drink’s involved I’m on the dot. Speaking of…” Eggsy lifted the bottle to eye level, offering a grin, “Thought I’d contribute.”

“Ah, Crown Royal.” Hart remarked, taking the bottle from Eggsy and inspecting it, “Been out of this for weeks. Your generosity is much appreciated, Eggsy.”

“Better be. Cost me my pension, that.”

“I’m sure. Come in then, not much point to standing outside admiring the bottle, is there?”

The taller man stood aside, allowing Eggsy to slither his way through the doorway and into an incredibly impressive foyer. It was modestly decorated, but still maintained an air of elegance that didn’t seem pretentious, but rather experienced. He could smell a variety of foods in the air: chicken, potatoes, corn.  All of which smelled absolutely delicious, causing Eggsy’s stomach to growl in anticipation.

“Almost forgot you were cookin’, was out all day so I haven’t had any grub. You a good cook, then?”

“You’d be a better judge than I am, but I do have experience in the culinary arts. I need to in order to keep myself somewhat healthy while living alone or else I’ll end up dead on the toilet like poor, constipated Elvis.”

“Elvis died on the toilet?”

“Oh Christ, don’t make me feel too old, Eggsy.”

“What a way to fuckin’ go.” The young man commented as he entered the dining room, taking in the spread before him. It all looked marvelous and cooked to perfection. He wasn’t going to lie, it was hot as hell when a man could cook, and he just hit the jackpot.

“Oi, mate, this is bare beautiful. Looks like something Gordon Ramsay would make.”

“Gordon’s a good friend, actually. He came to my dinner party last year for Christmas.”

Eggsy stared at him wide-eyed, “Gotta be shittin’ me, yeah? You’re mates with a famous chef?

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re a bleedin’ university professor! Ain’t ya supposed to be a recluse with no will to live or sommat?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be social.”

“Fuckin’ hell.”

The two men sat down at the long table, sitting across from each other. Eggsy felt a bit self –conscious eating in front of Hart, but it soon passed when he tasted the first bite of chicken. Before he could stop it, he moaned at the flavor of the dish, closing his eyes to relish the moment. Hart’s eyes immediately locked onto his face, registering what just happened and processing it. Hart was quiet, watching Eggsy as he continued to demolish the food in front of him, occasionally sighing under his breath.

“I take it you’re enjoying the meal?” He finally piped in, drawing Eggsy’s attention away from the potatoes.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in ages, bruv. I’m used to the telly dinners every night, this is doin’ me head in, this.”

“I’m glad I could treat you to it. I was rather surprised by your proposal, but I think I made a good choice in agreeing.”

“What? You think I wouldn’t want to learn how to make a Martini from the Martini master?”

“Well, as I’ve said before, most of my students are intimidated by me. If I were to ask anyone else, they would crudely assume I was going to murder them and stuff them into my cupboard.”

“Yeah, but I’m not anyone else, am I?” Eggsy’s eyes had a certain glint in them, the edges of his lips quirking slightly. No, he wasn’t. Eggsy was a very unique character; something Hart didn’t encounter often. There was something about him, something alluring, that kept Hart interested enough to pursue, for better or worse. This kid could very well be the death of him, and he wasn’t sure he’d care.

“Once you’re finished with your dish, we can relocate to the living room. I have a small bar there for entertaining guests.”

“And then Martini time?”

“Indeed, Eggsy.”

The boy sucked down the rest of his food in record time, slightly concerning the man sat across. It couldn’t be healthy, surely. At this rate he was likely to get potatoes lodged in his windpipe. But regardless, Eggsy stood, lifting his plate and glass and followed Hart’s lead into the kitchen, placing the dishes into the sink. The professor’s whole house astounded Eggsy, since he was used to the dreary reality of his council estate. If he wasn’t mortified, he’d probably ask to stay at Mr. Hart’s place for the night.

The men strode to the comfy looking area towards the middle of the first floor, lavishly decorated with various couches and beautiful pieces of art. The main attraction, though, was the large fireplace centerpiece. It was chiseled into limestone, and drew your attention from the first second you saw it like a bright lighthouse in the dark night. The whole room had an air of sophistication and style, two things Eggsy wasn’t used to being around. He felt slightly intimidated by it all, like he didn’t belong there. But one look at the professor told him otherwise. He was already at the mini bar tucked neatly in the corner of the room, taking out two glasses and all the necessary bits and bobs to make his master Martini. He was here for this, for him. He’d done the impossible and worked his way onto the man’s property, and for that, Eggsy at least deserved a drink.

“A real Martini is a work of art and must always be precise. You must use quality ingredients as well as the correct type of alcohol.” The older man spoke as he worked, picking out two bottles and placing ice in the mixer. “Many people use vodka in their mixes, and that is something you must avoid doing at all costs. Completely unforgivable. The taste is overwhelming, and only serves to get you drunk instead of giving you a pleasant drinking experience. I use vermouth, two parts.” Hart expertly poured the amounts into the mixer, swirling the bottle in a way that made Eggsy slightly dizzy. “Then you add the Gin, 12 parts. You must never, Eggsy,” He looked back, catching the boy’s eye, “ever _shake_ a Martini. That Bond quote promotes poor drinks. You must stir it for about a minute. No exceptions.”

“So Bond had shit taste, then?” Eggsy cracked a smirk, leaning against the wall, watching the man do his magic.

“Remarkably shit. I doubt he could even tell the difference between a vodka and a vermouth Martini. Embarrassing, really.”

“Mr. Hart, you sayin’ you’re better than James Bond?”

“Harry.”

“Hm?”

“My first name is Harry. Since you’re in my home, you needn’t call me Mr. Hart. Call me Harry.”

“Harry, then. You have successfully ruined me childhood with that little fact. Now I know Bond is a fraud and I’ll never be able to see the bloke the same way again.”

“Good. No child deserves to be so cruelly mislead without the perpetrator being reprimanded.”

“Bit harsh, innit?”

“Life is harsh, Eggsy.”

 The lad scoffed, kicking himself off of the wall to approach the bar. With a final elegant flick of the wrist, Harry had topped off their glasses and provided an olive garnish. Eggsy picked up his glass, gently clinking the other,

“Cheers.”

Eggsy didn’t really know what he was expecting, but the first sip hit him like a fuckin’ train. The bitter taste of alcohol filled his mouth, and left a warm tingle all the way down his throat. It was pleasant, but intense. Eggsy was a light drinker, usually sticking to Guinness or rum and cokes. Nothing of this caliber, surely.

“Fuckin’ hell, Harry. This is a strong drink, mate, never had anythin’ like it.”

“That’s rather the point, Eggsy.” Harry sipped at his like it was nothing, obviously used to the burn from years of experience.

“How many of these do you make a week?”

“On average? About eight. I usually end the day with a drink if I can manage it. A reward of sorts for getting through the day in one piece.”

“You’re bare mental, bruv.”

“On the contrary, Eggsy, they keep me sane. Now sit, I’ve stood enough for one day. I’m not as stable as I once was.” He motioned a hand towards the couch, already moving to claim his spot.

“I’ve been on me feet all day, went to and from shops, getting’ this and that. Time to kick back and enjoy the high life, yeah?”

“If you insist.”

“I do, Harry. I fuckin’ do.” Eggsy took a seat across from the other man, lounging back against the plush upholstery. He hadn’t taken the time out to really inspect Harry because of his jittering nerves, but now, sitting across from him, he couldn’t possibly avoid it. The man was in something similar to what Eggsy was wearing, actually. He had on a cream button up top, untucked, and black slacks. It was almost unnatural to see him in such a bare state, like Eggsy had interrupted him mid-dress. The cream top, however, did a marvelous job of outlining the man’s surprisingly toned body. He wouldn’t have taken Hart as one to be an avid gym member, but by the looks of it, he must be. No way the man could have developed pecs from grading papers, no matter how shitty the writing.

His hand cradled the glass in an almost carefree sprawl, his fingers thin and long. He wasn’t wearing his usual rings, and had on a different watch than what Eggsy was accustomed to. Trailing his gaze upwards, he soon noticed Harry was staring straight back at him. Eggsy coughed, readjusting himself,

“See you’re not married, then.”

“Not to my knowledge, no.”

“Got a girlfriend?”

“Does it look like there’s any feminine influence on my life?”

Eggsy chuckled; while the house was lavish and pretty, it did lack color and vibrance, something a wife or girlfriend would have surely spruced up by now. “Suppose not, no. Boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Anyone?”

“Afraid not. I have friends that I visit, but I rarely have anyone come over from more than a dinner or a drink. I prefer to go out.”

Eggsy hummed, “That come with the job, then? Bein’ a professor?”

“Not necessarily. It’s more just me; I’m quite a reserved person.”

“I can tell.”

“That’s not always a bad thing, Eggsy.”

“Didn’t say it was.” He paused to take a drink, watching Harry’s eyes as he did so, “I guess you just come off as distant, is all. Like, during class and that. No one really knows what you’re about.”

“And why should they?”

“Well it’s no fun getting taught by a robot, is it?” Harry cocked an eyebrow, causing Eggsy to shake his head, “Listen, bruv, what you say in class is all well and good and educational, but if the students aren’t connectin’ to ya, then what’s gonna motivate them to pay attention?”

Harry took a drink, sighing and running a hand through his graying hair, tussling it as he did, “I suppose you’re right. But I’m surely not going to divulge my whole history to a group of young menaces.”

“You don’t have to; ya just gotta show ‘em a bit of your personality. Like the other mornin’, you were bein’ all sarcastic. That’s the kind of stuff I’m talkin’ about, mate. Let your sense of humor come through, not just your sense of discipline.” Harry stared at him for a while, scanning his features carefully.

“Eggsy, why did you take my advice?”

“What?”

“Why did you clean yourself up? Judging by the reaction of your fellow peers, it was incredibly out of character. If you had never done it before, and I’m sure you’ve been asked to, why did you do it when I asked?”

Eggsy sat there, feeling the older man’s brown eyes boring into him. He didn’t know what to say; he could feel the dull ache of panic start to rise in the back of his throat. He had to think of something quick, he couldn’t just bloody well sit there and act like he hadn’t heard the question.

“Well…dunno. Just felt like it was time to, I guess. Seein’ ya all dapper everyday got me thinkin’, then what ye said about how it don’t take much more time to do. I’d always thought it were a right drag, puttin’ in all that effort, so I didn’t. And I guess…” Eggsy shifted, crossing his arms across his chest in a hopeless attempt to add some type of barrier between the two men, “I just wanted to impress ya. Show ya I weren’t just some slag.”

He watched Harry’s face, trying to gauge a reaction. He found none. The Martini was raised to his lips for a long sip, afterwards being placed on the side table, and hands folding themselves in his lap.

“Eggsy, may I tell you something?”

“Go on.”

“I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. Regardless of whatever monstrosity covered your body, I took notice of you within the first week of class. You stood out. You’re not the typical student I see in my classes, but you ended up performing better than the ones who you’d expect. There’s something about you that I cannot pinpoint for the life of me. But suffice to say, Eggsy, you’ve impressed me since the moment I saw you. Cleaned or uncleaned.”

The boy’s mouth hung open; did he hear what he thought he just heard? Hart had been impressed with him the whole fuckin’ time? Harry’s face was unreadable, but you could see the cogs turning in Eggsy’s head clear as day. He leaned back, eyes redirecting themselves to the stylized carpet. His eyebrows slowly rose and a pout formed on his mouth, “Right then.” He met Harry’s eyes once again, “Not gonna lie, bruv, I’m at a loss o’ words ‘ere. No one’s ever said that to me before.”

“I’m glad to have popped your compliment cherry.”

“You know, sir…” Eggsy leaned over, placing his elbows atop his knees, steadily gaining confidence, “I often wonder what’s goin’ on in that posh head of yours. What ye might be thinkin’. If you’re really as repressed as ye seem.”

“I’m far from repressed.”

“Not gonna lie, most of the time I’m not completely in me head during your lectures. Get distracted, yeah?” He sat up, picking up his Martini and taking a long swing, downing half the glass. “Wonder what you’d be like completely off ya head. Not pissed, though. No, no, you can see that any day. I think about what you’d be like when you have absolutely none of that proper self control left. Completely mad with rage. Or lust.”

“And why is that?” Harry’s posture hadn’t changed. He wore the same relaxed expression, but under the dim lighting of the room, his eyes had a different look to them. Eggsy couldn’t identify it.

“Curiosity, mostly.” Eggsy tilted his head, scanning down the other man’s body, “And maybe an urge to finally crack that constant gentlemanly demeanor of yours.”

“What makes you think you can?”

The lad stood up from his perch, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Now was the time to do it; he had to make his move. There wouldn’t be another chance, and if he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. He stood in front of the seated man, gently leaning over him, placing his hands on the arms of the chair to support himself, “Won’t know till we try, will we?”

Harry gazed into the young man’s eyes, taking in a long breath,

“I suppose you’re fucking right.”

Before he could process the phrase, Harry’s large hand was seated at the back of his neck, pulling the boy’s mouth to his. Their lips met, dumbly at first, but quickly found their way into a naughty waltz. Harry’s lips tasted bitter from the Martini, but had a faint hint of sweetness that made Eggsy groan lowly. It was bloody perfect. It didn’t take long for Hart to loop his other arm around the smaller man’s waist, tugging him roughly onto his lap. His thighs were firm under Eggsy’s, fitting just right between his spread legs. He could feel searing heat start to pool in the pit of his stomach, making his breath catch in his throat. He reached up, knotting his fingers in the professor’s hair, relishing in the act of smearing the perfect image of professionalism. Hart’s tongue teased over his own, always receding before Eggsy could get what he so desperately wanted. His teeth caught the boy’s lip, gently tugging before soothing it with a lick. Eggsy was lost in feeling, not being able to keep track of how long it had been or where he was. All that was in his mind was Harry Hart: his taste, his feel, his smell. The mix of aftershave and expensive cologne ignited the senses, making him lightheaded.

When he finally couldn’t resist, Eggsy separated from the man’s mouth, coming up for air. He grinned cheekily, laughing breathlessly, “Fuck me, mate, that was better than I’d imagined.”

“Glad to know your subconscious undermines me.”

“Prove it wrong some more then, yeah?”

“It’d be my pleasure.” Harry took his lips once again, more passionately this time. His tongue longingly probed his mouth, exploring all the corners. Eggsy’s hands wandered, feeling every inch of the man he could grab. His flesh was soft and warm under his touch; his fingers trailing the contours he eagerly spotted earlier. Eggsy could feel himself hardening, his pants getting tighter and more uncomfortable by the second. He rolled his hips, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the overwhelming tension. It was Harry’s time to groan, hands frantically gripping his hips, urging them to continue their motion. He could now feel the professor’s growing erection as well, teasing it with every gritty drag. He needed out of his pants, and fast. He separated from the man’s mouth once again, this time going for his neck. He nipped all the way down the jugular, stopping to suck lightly at the crook of the neck. Harry sighed, leaning his head back. Eggsy grazed his teeth back up, stopping at the man’s ear to softly whisper,

“I want to suck your cock, yeah? Been thinkin’ about it all year. Fantasized about suckin’ you off under your desk or in yer office. Want ye to make me choke on it.”

The professor moaned, gripping the boy’s arse tightly, “Oh, you filthy little thing. Go on, then. Show me you’re worthy of top marks.”

Eggsy gasped, cock twitching at the words. He quickly slipped off Harry’s lap, sinking to his knees between his thighs. The sight of Hart looking down at him, face flushed and lips swollen with his legs open to him almost gave Eggsy a bleedin’ heart attack. He raked his hands up the professor’s inner thighs, feeling the hot muscles twitch under his finger tips. He leaned forward, gently mouthing over Harry’s cock through the fabric.

“Shit,” Hart gasped, mouth falling open a bit as his breathing got heavier. His glasses had become a bit fogged, slipping down the bridge of his nose. This is what Eggsy longed to see; the fine lines of the professor’s demeanor being muddled by desire. He gripped Harry’s hips and yanked him closer, causing a surprised huff, and started working on the man’s belt. He drew down the dress slacks, leaving the Calvin Klein pants straining to keep his cock covered. He adjusted Harry so that he was slumped in the chair, giving Eggsy full access. He unbuttoned the cream top, keeping eye contact as he did so, until he spread the fabric and began kissing a line down the man’s stomach. He bit and nipped at his ribs, watching the muscles react under the pale skin, all the while ghosting his fingers over the professor’s cock.

After successfully marking up Hart’s torso, Eggsy finally snuck his fingers into the waistband of his pants and dragged them down to join the slacks.

“Oh, fuck,” Eggsy breathed, taking in the sight before him. Hart was big. Proper big. At least ten inches, and right thick as well. He could feel all the blood in his body immediately rush to his cock, tunneling his vision slightly.

“Good?” Harry questioned, taking note of Eggsy’s expression.

 “Better than good.” He replied, willing his eyes to Hart’s and away from the cock. The professor’s eyes darkened,

“Then get to work.”

Eggsy took a hold of Harry, giving him a few experimental strokes. He took the head into his mouth, rolling it on his tongue and sucking gently, tasting him. He gathered saliva in his mouth, licking up the thick vein on the underside of his cock. Trying to remember all his training, he took a deep breath, and swallowed as much as he could manage. He got about ¾ of the way down before he felt overwhelmed, willing himself to remain for a couple of moments, hearing a loud moan escape Harry’s lips. He came back up, a trail of spit still linking his lips to the cock.  He went back again, this time focusing on stroking and bobbing, twisting his wrist and swirling his tongue. Harry’s head was back, breaths puffing out of him to the rhythm of Eggsy’s work, and his hands were white-knuckled, gripping the arms of the chair like his life depended on it. Just then, Eggsy got an idea. He lifted off, giving one last hard suck before releasing with a lewd pop. He sunk lower, lapping at the older man’s balls, earning a low groan. He sucked and licked, slowly lowering, testing the waters. With a surge of courage, he gave a tentative lick the man’s entrance. Harry gasped, hand jetting from the arm rest to the boy’s hair. He licked again, longer this time, watching the professor’s eyebrows furrow in pleasure. Damn fuckin’ right Eggsy knew what he was doin’, he’d been around the block.

Dipping in and out, Eggsy tasted the older man, lazily stroking his cock in time with his tongue. Harry’s fingers gripped his hair, occasionally pushing the boy closer when he did something he liked. He let off for a moment, looking up at the professor, “Do ye ‘ave any lube?”

“The drawer.” He motioned towards the side table on his right. Eggsy rummaged through, finding a small tube. The thought set in that this was deliberate. Harry had put the lube there on purpose before Eggsy had arrived. He had planned this. Eggsy’s heart leapt into his throat, looking at the man sprawled before him. Fuckin’ hell, he was lucky.

Eggsy popped open the tube and pushed out a small amount, slicking his fingers with it. He took Harry’s cock into his mouth once again, starting with a slow, teasing pace. After a moment, he began to gently rub at the professor’s entrance, massaging the ring. When he received a soft sigh, he pushed in slowly, inching his way. To his surprise, Hart was already slightly stretched, taking him in easily. His cock twitched in his pants, “Frequently flier, then?”

“On occasion.”

Eggsy smirked, tentatively adding a second finger. He continued to work Harry’s cock with his mouth while quirking his fingers, trying to find the right spot. Eventually, he rubbed at a small knot and the fingers in his hair clenched,

“E-eggsy, ha-a shit,” Harry’s legs spread open, searching for more as he began thrusting into the boy’s mouth. His hand anchored Eggsy’s head as he desperately fucked his mouth, feeling his release approaching. He began babbling incoherently, all of his reserved nature forgotten in the wet heat. He shoved the boy’s head down, a loud growl ripping from him and he came, throbbing inside of his throat. Eggsy did his best to swallow all of it, finding it difficult with the obstruction. Harry’s had eased off, releasing Eggsy as he came up for air, cum lingering on his lips. He retracted his fingers, wiping them off on his jeans. Which, by the way, needed to come off right fucking now. He tore them off, strewing them on the floor, and took his cock in his hand, whining at the contact. Harry perked up at that, motioning the boy to get up. Once upright, Harry turned him around and lowered him back so he was lying with his back against the man’s hot skin. He tucked his head in the crook of Eggsy’s neck are reached around, taking the boy’s cock in his hand. His pace was brutal, making Eggsy see stars as he was held down by the man’s arm.

“You did so well, my boy. So very well.” Harry whispered breathily in his ear, kissing and nipping his neck as he did so, “Did you enjoy feeling my cock on your tongue?”

Eggsy moaned, “ _Yes_ , god yes.”

“Enjoyed feeling my cum drip down your used throat?”

The boy whined, holding onto the older man as he worked his cock, bringing Eggsy dangerously close.

“You’re going to come for me, Eggsy. You’ve been such a good boy. You deserve your reward.”

Eggsy bucked up, losing himself in his orgasm. His whole body shivered, spilling his seed in Harry’s hand and across his own stomach. His vision went black, and he had no idea what was coming out of his mouth. It could have been absolutely anything, but Eggsy didn’t give a flying fuck. The waves wracked over him, feeling harry grin against his neck, whispering things like ‘that’s right,’ and ‘good boy.’

It took him a good while to regain sentience, feeling the stickiness and physical ache. He turned his head, catching Harry’s lips in an awkward kiss.

“Wanted this too, did ya?”

“No, Eggsy, don’t be ridiculous. I happen to keep lube in every one of my tables because of my frequent, wild orgies.”

“Invite me next time, yeah?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t stand to share you with anyone else. I’m far too greedy.”

Eggsy grinned, getting an equally smitten one in return, “Fair enough.”


End file.
